We didn't argue about direction.
That surprised me.
After everything—after falling, after the air tearing itself wrong—Ray didn't ask if we should turn back.
He didn't even look over his shoulder. He just started walking towards the forest entrance, fast enough that stopping him would've meant grabbing him.
So, I followed.
We'd been walking for what felt like hours now. And we still hadn't found a way back to our world.
The ground sloped unevenly, stone half-buried beneath soil that felt too soft for how dry it looked.
Every few steps, my foot sank a little deeper than expected, like the earth hadn't decided what density it wanted to be yet.
Ray noticed it too. "This place sucks."
"Watch your step," I said.
"I am watching—"
Thud
Ray's foot abruptly planted deep into the ground. He lurched forward and was planted into the ground by an invisible force, barely catching himself on the now smooth ground.
With a bit of cursing he laughed it off, but his hands shook when he pushed himself upright.
"What the hell?!" he couldn't get up.
He dragged himself back to where I was on all fours, then got up to meet my judging expression.
"What?" he scoffed. "It's not me. It's this place."
Folding his hands he muttered. "Of course, can do one push-up"
Looking forward, the ground turned smooth. Too smooth for a forest. It's like the roots didn't have enough freedom to push out of the ground.
As we walked forward, we completely lost trust in gravity due to its inconsistency.
What if it just stops and we float out into whatever is above those clouds?
This reduced our pace even more.
We passed a patch of plants that looked like grass until they folded.
Each blade curled in on itself as we approached, tightening until the ground beneath them hardened, turning brittle underfoot.
Ray stepped onto it anyway. The surface cracked, sharp edges biting through the sole of his shoe.
He hissed and jumped back. "Okay. Not grass."
Farther in, insects moved through the undergrowth—not buzzing, not crawling, but relocating. Beetle-things the size of coins detached from bark and dropped into the soil.
A line of ants crossed our path, each one large enough that their legs cast thin shadows.
Ray lifted his foot to step over them.
"Don't," I said.
He froze mid-step.
The ants didn't react. But the earth beneath them vibrated faintly, like a warning hum.
Ray slowly shifted his weight back.
The vibration stopped.
The farther we went, the harder it became to tell how far we'd come or which direction we were headed.
Once, I stopped hearing Ray's footsteps. Turning my head, I noticed he was at my far right. Too far.
'Weren't we going in a straight line?'
We decided to make sure we could see each other as we moved.
"Ugh, it's getting dark already?!" Ray groaned as visibility thinned all of a sudden.
Too suddenly.
Rumble.
The sound of thunder rolled in the distance. I looked up to see dark, menacing clouds hanging above our heads through the gaps in the leaves.
Tssssh.
A drop of rain fell on a trunk right next to Ray.
"We—we need shelter," he shivered.
"I know."
I replied as we picked up our pace.
"And we need to find a rift."
"I know—the distortion in space-time. Who knew it would lead to a place like this?"
He glanced at me. "You're very calm about this. You, okay?"
I didn't respond.
'He's right. Something's wrong. I'm acting more apathetic than I usually am.'
My thoughts weren't calmer. There were just fewer of them.
Every time panic tried to bloom, it stopped halfway—trimmed. When my legs wanted to sprint, they didn't. When my hands wanted to clench, they relaxed just enough to stay useful.
It's as though I don't believe this is real. But that doesn't sound quite right.
"Just processing," I said eventually.
RUMBLE!
With that, we fell into a full-on sprint straight ahead. In search for any kind of shelter.
Eventually, we reached a narrow stretch where the mountain pressed close to the forest, roots breaking through stone and stone splitting roots in return.
"Wha—when did we make a U-turn?" Ray said while placing his face in his palms, as though questioning reality.
"There! We can stay there" I pointed to a place we could use as shelter for the time being.
It wasn't a cave. Not really.
More like the ground had given up halfway—a giant slab of stone leaning on the mountain side, locked by roots and old pressure, forming a narrow triangular-like hollow.
The roof sagged low in the middle, held up by a mess of embedded rocks and compacted soil. The floor dipped slightly, slanted just enough that loose pebbles slid when they stepped.
It looked like it could collapse with a little push, but what other choice did we have?
"I thought we were walking away from the mountain?!" Ray kept on rambling to himself.
"Forget about that" I shoved him forward "Inside! Before we get dissolved into a puddle!"
We ducked under the shelter without stopping to admire it.
….
CLAP!
Rumble
Ray turned to me "Tom, you have your phone with you?"
"Sigh, it fell in the alley." My shoulders slumped a bit. "What of yours?"
"Left it in my luggage"
"Sigh" "Sigh"
The rain had been pouring for a while now.
"Ah Dammit! We're stranded in some strange place with no phone, no food or water, and my favorite jacket looks like rat leftovers!" Ray groaned pulling on his hair. "Can things get any worse?"
'You just had to jinx it, didn't you?' I stared at him with a deadpan look.
Time passed in our little shelter; the constant pouring rain had somehow turned into a soothing lullaby.
The duration of my eyeblinks began to last longer and longer.
I looked at Ray to find him already fast asleep.
Well, I guess nothing would travel in this rain.
'I'll just close my eyes to rest for a bit.'
…
Snap!
My eyes shot open to a sound I couldn't place.
'Was I just dreaming?'
The rain had stopped.
Not faded. Not softened. Just—gone. It was silent. Uncomfortably so.
"Ray, get up!" I whispered, tapping his shoulder harder than necessary.
He jerked awake "Wha—"
I clamped a hand over his mouth.
Something moved beyond the overhang.
Not close. Not far. Just enough to disturb the leaves without touching them.
Ray's eyes widened. He nodded slowly under my hand.
I let go.
We listened.
Skrrrrrrrt
There it was again.
A scraping sound—light, uneven. Like claws testing stone. Then nothing.
Ray leaned in, barely breathing. "Is that…?"
"Don't," I whispered.
The sound shifted.
Not toward us.
To the left.
My stomach tightened.
Whatever it was, it wasn't guessing.
A shadow passed across the forest floor, stretched wrong by the uneven light. Too low. Too long. It paused where the ants had crossed earlier.
Thump
The ground vibrated.
Ray swallowed audibly.
Peeking outside.
For a moment, there was only darkness.
Then it moved.
From the mouth of the clearing beyond the cave, the thing emerged fully into view.
Roughly the length of a large motorcycle, low to the ground, its weight carried on a shell-like back that resembled a cracked turtle's carapace—layered plates overlapping unevenly, as if grown rather than formed.
Its arms were the most unsettling part.
They were too long, thin as withered branches, ending in hooked claws that scraped against stone as it advanced.
The head was unmistakably rat-like—narrow snout, twitching whiskers, black eyes that reflected no light. Behind it dragged a thick, scaled tail, lizard-like, heavy enough to leave a shallow trail in the dirt.
It paused.
Its head tilted.
I retreated.
'Okay, Thomas think'
We need distance.
And we need time.
The plan came together in fragments—quick glances, gestures, half-formed thoughts sharpened by fear.
The thing outside moved a few meters past the shelter's mouth, claws scraping, head dipping as it sniffed.
Up close, its size was undeniable—long arms folding and unfolding as it shifted, claws curving like sickles. Its body was squat and heavy, the shell-like curve of its back ridged and cracked, bearing weight the way stone bore weight. Too much weight.
Too much for this.
My breath hitched—then steadied.
The spark cut through the surge of fear, not erasing it, just shaving it down. No spiraling. No wasted thoughts. What remained was observation.
The roof bowed slightly each time the creature brushed near the entrance.
Tiny stones trickled down.
I leaned close to Ray, voice barely sounding. "Let's assume we can't outrun it."
Ray swallowed. "Okay..."
"We don't have to." I nodded toward the back of the shelter. "Instead, we let it come to us."